The anomaly of the toy house

British houses are divided into two categories: Buckingham palace, Kensington and whatnot, or the terraced houses on two floors where we mere mortals live.

Which can be more or less large. But they are usually small.

(And, to be fair, they're so cute!).

The way of building this type of house has remained unchanged in the last 2 or 3 centuries. They have no real foundations, but are based on a crawl space of about 30 cm whose function is not clear. It could have the purpose of creating ventilation against humidity; perhaps.

Except that a span-thick carpet is usually installed on the floorboards, which spoils the intent (for further information see: The anomaly of the carpet).

We certainly know that the cavity under the floor is used to facilitate the passage of mice from the street to the garden, which is why it is advisable to look with great suspicion all the holes larger than 5 mm that you find on the ground floor of your house and eventually plug them with the most toxic and radioactive materials you can think of.

Usually, starting from a very narrow entrance corridor (the famous sub-anomaly of the narrow entrance, illustrated here by colleague A. Manes), one enters a sitting room where there is only room for a sofa, connected to a room where there is space only for the table and chairs, connected to a kitchenette that gives access to the garden.

The average Italian, who buys a 55-inch TV and puts it in the living room, in order to see something in

focus has to create an array of open doors and sit in the kitchen sink.

Upstairs the bedrooms: small, so small. Generally there are two. In one there is a double bed and that's it, in the other there is a single bed and that's it.

No space for wardrobes, desks or stuff. Also, one wall is always occupied by the useless but romantic fireplace.

The bathroom is normally more normal in size, although it contains the mother of all anomalies (The chilling anomaly of the taps, which we will discuss separately).

The floor of the second floor, like that of the upper floors, is made up only of wooden planks on which the carpet rests. When you walk, everything dances, objects jingle, and sometimes a foot sinks into the carpet creating suspense: will you end up downstairs? Who knows…

In my opinion these holes are a trick to strengthen the sense of transience of the human being, like "Remember you must die!".

A feeling of insecurity is reinforced by the fact that all the materials used are highly flammable and in fact part of the time in the UK is devoted to courses and exercises on fire regulations.

Of course ... practically if you drop a lit match, the building goes away in a single blaze.

But let's go back to the main point: why are these houses so small?

The British are not small, they are the same size as all the other Europeans.

Are there high mountains, rushing rivers, seismic areas for which it is possible to build small houses only in very limited areas of the territory? No… the UK is a hospitable and flat land, devoid of earthquakes and catastrophic natural events. And so?

And so it is obvious that at the basis of all this there is a clear playful intent, and I am going to provide the overwhelming proof: the sub-anomaly of the giant garden.

The houses are 50m2, but they all have a 100m2 garden, which is super childish…